Buoy
by SoulOfAFangirl684
Summary: Sometimes you could go it alone. At others, you had to let your friends buoy you to the surface.


**Hmm… So, not for the same fandom, but I hadn't expected to complete another one-shot this quickly. Then again, I already had this one in-progress. I have another Children of the Red King one-shot in progress as well, but that's all I've got planned for now. I just feel like the series had the opportunity to be so much deeper than it actually was… It hinted at all of the inner troubles the endowed were facing, but Nimmo never really went into them. (Not that I don't love her work, that's just my opinion.) **

**So that's kind of what this is. Originally, I was going to place this in the Romance category, because I love a good TancredxEmma fic as much as the next person, but after I finished writing it, I realized that it just didn't really have the element of a Romance fic. This one-shot was more two friends helping each other through a rough time than anything else.**

**That said, enjoy!**

**Buoy**

An easel in the Thunder House was a strange sight. This was apparent by the very setting: The easel and its accompanying palette were set up in the living room. It was a big house, but they didn't have any room suitable for painting.

So Tancred was sitting on his couch, the rays from the moon shining over his shoulder the only light. His father's thunderous snores shook the house, the evidence of Mr. Torsson's endowment clear even in unconsciousness.

Under any other circumstances, it probably would have been for the best that the Thunder House didn't have a space to accommodate artistic ablities. After all, Tancred had been enrolled at Bloors Academy because of his own endowment. He wasn't dually talented like Lysander or Olivia. Or Emma.

Just the thought of the Academy made him shiver. He would not let his fear keep him from helping his friends, he would _not_! But all the same…

Tancred had been revived for a week, but there were times when his skin still chilled, his thoughts cloudy. He had yet to take a shower without hyperventilating to the point where his endowment all but abandoned him. He had yet to have a peaceful night's sleep. Ever since the battle with Dagbert, Tancred had been unable to sleep without dreaming. And whenever he awoke in his dreams, he was _always _underwater. He would fight to get to the surface, panic gripping him as he realized it was like walking through sludge.

He would wake up gasping for air, surprised at the ease with which it came to him. Sometimes the Flames would be with him when he woke. Tonight they were apparently needed elsewhere.

So perhaps Tancred wasn't the most artistic person in the world. But he couldn't spend so many years in the art department without picking up something. While it was true that he preferred working with clay, this was the first painting he'd done that he was genuinely proud of. Which was saying something, considering he was working pretty much in the dark.

Before him was a picture cut down the middle by two very different shades of blue. In the top half was a simple brown bird, soaring ever higher, away into the sky.

The lower half of his painting was much darker. Below the sky resided an unspecified body of water, but Tancred knew it was the sea. Bubbles rose to the surface as an anchor sank to the sandy bottom.

Gingerly, the storm boy set down his paintbrush. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers to rest his chin upon. He stared at his painting for some time, willing his eyes not to close now that he adrenaline had worn off.

He blinked, wondering if he was slipping off when the shadow first passed over his painting. He watched with an exhausted sort of fascination as the shadow drew closer, looking every bit like the bird had materialized out of his painting. A second later, the bird flew through the open window and landed on the floor before him in a movement so graceful it looked as if she had floated down.

Tancred stared at the bird stupidly for a few seconds more, shaking his head a little to clear his thoughts. The bird's feathers ruffled slightly in the breeze that resulted, only further cementing in his mind that this was not some illusion that would disappear the moment he succumbed to sleep.

As his head cleared more, it occurred to him just how strange a sight this was. Animals tended to keep their distance from the Thunder House. It was too turbulent for them, especially for small birds like this one that were easily displaced in a storm. Unless…

"Emma?" His voice was soft, and the bird's head tilted up as her beady yet gentle eyes found his.

Tancred didn't make a sound, didn't move a muscle as she began to change back. Later he would feel a bit rude, but right now… he couldn't tear his eyes away. Emma only ever used her endowment when absolutely necessary, and when she did she preferred to make the transformation out of sight of any prying eyes. She blushed when she reached the halfway state- where she more closely resembled a human girl but had not yet lost her feathers- but neither said a word.

When she was finally back to normal, Emma slowly made her way over and sat beside him on the couch. "I'm sorry for barging in on you like this," she apologized quietly.

"Is everything all right?" he replied.

"Of course," she answered. She was flustered and trying not to show it. But this was only emphasized when she hurriedly changed the subject. "That's nice. I don't think I've ever seen you paint before. Your bird is very realistic."

"It's nothing like any of yours," he replied humbly. Another light breeze accompanied his blush, but if it was visible in the dark room, she didn't mention it. But Tancred was not as comfortable letting secrets lie.

"I don't usually paint. But I couldn't sleep," he continued. Tancred had every intention of going on to explain his nightmares to her, but it was as if his throat closed up. Agitated, he clenched and unclenched his fists a few times. How could he justly expect her to open up to him if he could not do the same?

Luckily, the bird girl seemed to understand. Shyly, Emma laid a hand over his own. "It's all right… I couldn't sleep either. That's why I'm really here… I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine, Em."

Up to this point, her eyes had been locked on their hands, hers not quick big enough to cover his. Now her head snapped up so she could look at him, her eyes tear-filled.

"I've been having the most horrible dreams lately," she whispered. "One second I'll be soaring through the sky, and the next it's like I've been shot down and I'm falling to the ground." She couldn't bring herself to tell him the rest of her dream. The part where she actually made impact and could do little more than stare up from where she lay crumpled on the ground. The part where she was forced to stare up at his pale, lifeless face as his father carried his body away.

She sniffed and wiped at her tears with her free hand. Tancred had latched on to the other one.

"Don't cry, Em," he soothed in a quieter voice than she'd thought him capable of. "And don't worry. We won't let you fall. "

Slowly, she laid her head down on his shoulder. "You either," she managed through a yawn. "We'll never let you fall either."

Tancred let a small smile grace his lips as her eyes slid shut. He knew that she'd interpreted his painting correctly.

Sometimes you could go it alone. At others, you had to let your friends buoy you to the surface. These were his last thoughts before he drifted off too.

**Review please!**

**I think I've pleased overall with how this went… I own nothing! **


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